


Across the Glassy Sea

by LateOctober



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Body Horror, Childbirth, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mpreg, Postpartum Depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-07-29 08:11:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7676827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateOctober/pseuds/LateOctober
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Supreme Leader schemes to take over the galaxy, using the body of his apprentice as a tool to produce an even more powerful force-user. No slash or non-con.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Strange Command

Kylo Ren, dark force user and master of the Knights of Ren, swiftly walked down a crumbling stone vault, deep in the ancient fortress where his Supreme Leader resided. It was their first meeting since his full recovery from the injuries he sustained on Starkiller Base. His wounds had been severe but not life-threatening, thanks to the quick attentions of General Hux and his officers. His convalescence was slow and uneventful. He could have easily sped up the healing process by drawing on the Force, but the Supreme Leader had forbidden it. Kylo remembered the past few weeks well—there were a series of surgeries resulting in intense pains that gradually dissipated into dull aches. His recovery was not pleasant, as he was only allowed the minimum amount of pain medication necessary to prevent his body from going into shock. However, despite the physical pain combined with the anger and frustration of his humiliating defeat, he behaved himself. He slept as much as he could and swallowed the food and pills given to him. He even humored the understandably nervous First Order medics who arrived punctually five days a week to direct his physical therapy. For weeks afterwards, he walked with a limp and tired easily. Now, the knight was finally strong, whole, and ready to confront his enemies once more.

Kylo Ren entered the throne room and knelt before the Supreme Leader. He removed his helmet, as was their custom, revealing the angry red scar that streaked across his face. Ren had not allowed the medics to fully heal this wound (he knew they applied liberal amounts of disinfectant while they believed him to be asleep, but he permitted this). The General had sneered to see him healed with that ragged scar, assuming the knight wanted to keep it as a badge of glory, a link to his grandfather’s legacy. Hux always jumped to the worst conclusions, particularly when it came to Ren’s ego or temperament. He was often right. But in Kylo Ren’s eyes, the scar was not a souvenir or a mark of bravado—it was a lesson. He wanted to keep this lesson with him always, so that every time he touched his face or saw his reflection, he was reminded of his failure—he would never underestimate his enemies again.

The knight bowed his head, dark locks falling over pale skin. “Supreme Leader, I await your command,” he announced, his voice echoing in the dark, damp chamber.

Snoke leaned forward into the light, his thin, pallid hands gripping the arms of the stone chair. The Supreme Leader looked decrepit; his skin was hoary and thin, and scars and old injuries littered his ancient body. But power radiated from him like heat. He was strong in the Force, stronger than anyone Ren had ever known—bodies withered over time, but the Force was forever.

“Kylo Ren,” came the measured voice. “I see that you have made a full recovery.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader. I do not deserve your mercy. I would not have survived without your intervention.”

“I have already invested years into you. It would be inconvenient to lose you now. Do not presume to think that I ordered your rescue out of anything resembling mercy.” He leaned back in the chair. Kylo Ren was accustomed to this pattern of recognition and insult, the pull and push of Snoke’s language. But the apprentice knew it was a good thing—this technique helped him keep his head clear. The Supreme Leader was not his friend—he was his master. Ren’s only goal was to please his master, not from any misguided sense of affection, but from their mutual desire for strength and power.

“You are immensely powerful in the Force—in all of my years, I have never seen such potential. You have advanced considerably since we first met. Your recent triumph over your father was an important step on the path to strength.”

Ren stiffened. He tried to think as little as possible about his father and their ill-fated encounter on Starkiller Base. He simply wanted to block the memory out. The physical pain resulting from his injuries had proved an excellent distraction, making it easy to ignore unwanted thoughts. Killing his father was not the great release he expected. It had not felt like a moment of triumph at all—rather, the memory was a great, gaping wound deep inside of him that he felt could never heal. He hated his father—he had for many years. Yet, killing him seemed to make him weaker, rather than give him the strength he coveted.

“I understand,” replied Snoke, sifting through Ren’s thoughts. “Your reluctance makes your act even more victorious. The Light pulled at you from inside and out, with such insidious power, and yet you held strong. You obeyed your Master. You made a choice to eradicate an enemy, a weak and unworthy creature whose blood relation to you was a mere coincidence. You were never truly his son. You have always been meant for greater things.”

Ren bowed his head in respect. “I thrive under your guidance.”

“I suppose you know why I have called you here today?”

“To complete my training, Supreme Leader.”

Snoke nodded. “And what do you believe that will entail?”

Ren paused. He had not anticipated this question. He had plenty of ideas—he could think of any number of tasks, or series of tasks, that could formally complete his training. But he had not expected the Supreme Leader to ask him to share them.

“Supreme Leader,” he responded after several long moments. “Luke Skywalker still roams the galaxy. Leia Organa-Solo still lives. I must kill them as well. And then we can crush the rebellion.”

To his surprise, the Supreme Leader waved a hand casually, as if this important unfinished business was nothing. “All in good time,” he replied. “We will triumph in the end. I have had many visions since our failure to retrieve the map segment predicting the fall of the Rebellion. But these acts are not what I was referring to. I wish for you to train an apprentice. This apprentice can be a great asset to our cause.”

Ren blinked in surprise. Train an apprentice? How could he train an apprentice when he was still an apprentice himself?

“I sense your apprehension … but you are perhaps more competent than you think. And I will remain near to assist you.”

“Supreme Leader,” Ren began gingerly, “I am honored by your faith in me. Shall I select the apprentice myself, or will you perform this role?”

“Neither.”

“Neither?”

“Yes, Kylo Ren. There is no one worthy to be your apprentice. The strongest force users that are not allied with the rebellion are already conscripted into your order of knights. You must understand that when I commend you for your strength in the Force, when I reference your untapped potential and tremendous powers, I am not offering praise. These are facts. You come from a powerful bloodline—the dark side flows freely through your veins. When I sense you in the force, I feel a whirlwind of generative energy. You will create your own apprentice. I wish for you to produce a child, an heir.”

Kylo Ren certainly didn’t expect that. The Supreme Leader wanted him to father a child? With whom? What a silly and anticlimactic end to his training.

“As you wish, Supreme Leader,” Kylo Ren replied, bowing his head once again. “Will you select a mate or shall I?”

Snoke leaned back in the chair. “There will be no mate, Kylo Ren. This child will be yours alone. I have perfected a Sith ritual—I will channel the living force into your own body. You will grow the child inside you."

Ren was blindsided once again. This was not how he expected his meeting with the Supreme Leader to go. He expected to be punished or at least chastised for letting Rey and the map slip through his fingers. He expected to receive fresh orders from his leader, a new plan to attack the rebellion. Never in his strangest musings would he have expected his Supreme Leader to utter these words. He was to be impregnated by … the Force? Like his great-grandmother?

“You are skeptical. That is understandable,” Snoke replied. “You must remember that I see things that you do not. Your view is narrow and mine is broad. This is the will of the Force, as you will come to see in time. The will of the Force rarely leads us on a straight path. The Dark Side will triumph. This is the next step for you. I have foreseen it.”

“I … yes, Supreme Leader,” Ren stuttered, recoiling in shock and confusion.

“Of course, this will be no ordinary child,” Snoke mused. “This child will be as powerful as Darth Vader, or perhaps will even surpass his abilities. This child has the potential to become a great ally in the Force, not to mention an important tool in manipulating the remaining members of your sentimental family.”

There were several moments of tense silence. Ren attempted to collect his thoughts.

“Supreme Leader,” he replied at last. “Forgive me. I don’t understand how this is physically possible. Even if you were to channel to living force into my body, how could this possibly result in a child?”

“Kylo Ren, you must not underestimate the generative powers of the Force. Your body will change according to the needs of the offspring. And after the child is born, all will return to normal.”

Ren swallowed uncomfortably. “I’m to … deliver the child? I will literally give birth to a baby?”

“Indeed.”

“Supreme Leader … it will take several years for the child to grow to the right age.”

“It is possible to speed the development of a child considerably with the Force. With my assistance, a year or two is all that is required.”

Kylo Ren still felt confused. He did not approve of this plan. It sounded insane and bizarre. “But, Supreme Leader…”

“Kylo Ren, I grow weary of these questions. I have revealed my plan to you. You will obey me. Come to me again in seven days. You will fast and meditate for 48 hours prior to the ritual. Then, we shall begin to build your dynasty.”

Ren bowed once more, replaced his helmet, and began to leave.

“And Kylo Ren?” added the Supreme Leader.

He halted and turned. “Yes, my Lord?”

“I hope that you understand the nature of your relationship with this child. I am not giving you this child to love—you are not to form a sentimental attachment to it. This child is yours to teach and to command. If you are able to accomplish this, then your training will be complete.”

He nodded. “Yes, Supreme Leader.”

Ren left the throne room feeling odd and disoriented, as if he were wandering around in a dream-like state. He replayed the meeting in his mind over and over again. He still couldn’t believe it—had the previous conversation really happened? It seemed so … atypical and absurd. He had always known that he was powerful, but he had never thought that the Supreme Leader would want to … _breed_ him like a nerf cow. _No_ he chastised himself. _Stop these thoughts. If this is what the Supreme Leader wishes, then this is what I will do. I should feel honored for the chance to further my line and train a powerful young apprentice. Only the weak are afraid of change. I am above such common fears._ Yet these thoughts did little to settle his anxious mind. He was suddenly at his own door and yet he didn’t remember walking there. He all but stumbled inside the cool, dark interior and removed the helmet, placing it in the tray of ashes that traveled everywhere with him. He sat down on his hard mattress.

He was going to become pregnant. He had just agreed to submit to an arcane ritual, carry a human child inside his own newly-healed body, and then give birth, as if he were a female. How humiliating and degrading. He suddenly had so many questions. Where would he go during the pregnancy? Would he return to the Finalizer? Would he stay here with the Supreme Leader? Would be still be able to work and train? What was to prevent his officers from finding out? What would happen when he began to grow large? Surely, being pregnant would negatively affect the carefully guarded and vicious persona he had worked to achieve. Despite the Supreme Leader’s confident plans, he couldn’t help feeling dismayed and ashamed.

His face suddenly felt clammy—he lifted a hand to his cheek and rubbed his calloused hands over the red scar. But this time he did not think of the danger of underestimating his enemies. Rather, he thought of the danger in underestimating one’s allies. He lay down on his pallet, fully dressed, and drifted off into an uneasy sleep. He did not wake for a long time.

\--------------------

Kylo Ren felt differently when he woke from his long slumber. His head was clearer, and he no longer felt so apprehensive of the task set before him. The next week passed normally. He attended command meetings and performed small tasks for the Supreme Leader. He even went on a two-day scouting mission with a squad of special forces stormtroopers. As per Snoke’s orders, he isolated himself for two days prior to their next meeting and spent the time fasting and meditating.

He walked to the Supreme Leader’s throne room with resolution. He had no idea what exactly this “Sith ritual” entailed, but he was determined not to let fear and reluctance poison his mood. He felt cleansed by his fasting—weaker in body but stronger in the Force. He was fully prepared to follow the Supreme Leader’s orders.

He entered and kneeled, removing his mask as usual. Snoke was standing by the throne today. “Kylo Ren,” he acknowledged.

“Supreme Leader.”

“You may rise.” He gestured to a stone table that Kylo had never noticed before. Sitting on the table was a metal goblet filled with a murky liquid. “Drink,” ordered Snoke, handing him the cup.

Kylo Ren obeyed. When the gray liquid touched his lips, he nearly vomited. The taste was foul, like mold combined with chemicals, and there was an unpleasant chalky residue. He choked down the contents of the cup, handing it back to Snoke. His tongue was numb and his insides burned with a gentle heat.

Snoke walked across the room, placing the goblet on a small shelf littered with other strange objects. He returned to the table, standing on the side opposite from Ren.

“Disrobe,” he ordered, “And lie on your back.”

Ren began the laborious process of removing his heavy clothing. It was difficult with trembling fingers. What was in the cup? He felt so strange … dizzy and distracted, as if a dark fog was unfurling itself in his consciousness. He managed to divest himself, leaning against the stone slab for support. He nearly tumbled over when he removed the heavy boots. He gingerly climbed up onto the table, badly scraping his shins and ankles along the way.

He lay on his back as instructed and closed his eyes. The burning in his belly had dissipated, but he suddenly felt so tired. He was vaguely aware of the Supreme Leader lifting up his bony hands and speaking, but Ren didn’t catch the words. Was he talking to him? Was he even speaking Basic? Ren helplessly fought the dark tide of fatigue that rushed over him, twitching uncomfortably against the cold stone that dug into his skin. He shivered. The room was chilly and damp. Snoke’s voice became quieter and more muffled, as if he was hearing him speak from a distance. The fog in his mind grew thicker, and then he knew nothing.

____________________

Kylo Ren slowly became aware of the sound of lapping waves. He felt his body rocking back and forth. He turned over, burying his face in the cool depths of a down pillow. The hour seemed late, very late … or was it very early? He sat up and found himself ensconced in a wooden bed that was built into the side of a wall. He was covered in an old quilt, faded yet warm. As he stepped over the sides of the bed, he became more aware of the rocking motion. _I’m on a boat,_ he realized. He stood up and observed his surroundings. The room was small but comfortable. The walls were encased in a rich, wood paneling. There was a small table piled with ancient books and a large trunk by the wall. Suddenly realizing that he was naked, he padded over to the trunk and began to search for his clothes. His normal costume was nowhere to be found, nor was his helmet, but he managed to find a long, red hooded robe that fit him. He wandered over to the table and lifted up one of the moldering books, wrinkling his nose at the musty smell. The crumbling, yellowed pages were covered in some strange writing that Kylo couldn’t understand. He abandoned the texts and mounted the narrow wooden stairs that led from his berth to the deck.

It was nighttime. The inky blue-black sky was filled with a glittering array of pure white stars. One bright crescent moon hung low on the horizon. He leaned on the railing, closed his eyes, and breathed in deeply. The fresh salt air was invigorating. When was the last time he had been on a boat? When was the last time he had been near the ocean? It had been so long ago. For the first time in a long while, he felt something akin to peace. _This is where I want to stay,_ he thought. _I will exist here._ He stood there for some time, enjoying the soft, cool ocean breezes and listening to the lapping waves.

Then came a noise from down below. A crash, like glass breaking. _I’m not alone,_ Ren thought, suddenly alarmed. _Someone else is in my boat … who is in my boat?_ The stars suddenly seemed to dim. Ren reached for his lightsaber, but it wasn’t there. He rushed back down below deck expecting to find someone in his berth, but it was empty. He passed through a door that hadn’t seemed to exist before and found himself on a lower level. The air grew very cold and damp. Ren reached to raise the robe’s hood, but it was gone. He was naked again. He continued to follow the sounds of the intruder, passing through room after room. The boat seemed impossibly large. The lower levels of the boat were pitch black. He knew he was catching up to his quarry when finally, he stumbled into a small, candlelit room at the end of a hallway.

The room was empty. He stood there, confused, wondering if he was losing his mind, if there was even an intruder to begin with when he heard a soft, creaking noise from the hall behind him. He turned just in time to see a pale hand lock the door from the inside with a gold key and slam it shut. Ren ran to the door and banged on it, to no avail. He shouted and kicked and threatened, but the boat was now silent. Feeling tired, he finally sat on the cold floor and leaned up against the wall. That’s when he felt the water seeping into the boat. He realized in horror that the entire floor of the room was filled with the foul, black contents of the goblet. The water was deathly cold and rising quickly. He returned to the door and tugged at the doorknob, he banged on the door, he stuck his fingers in the lock in a desperate attempt to pry it open. The fetid water rose higher and higher until it was waist-deep. He heard fizzing sounds as the candles were extinguished one by one. _I’m trapped,_ he thought. _I’m trapped, I’m trapped, I’m trapped._ Time seemed to speed up—the water was chest-high, then neck-high, and then there were only precious inches left. He pressed his face against the ceiling, bloody fingernails scrambling helplessly against the ancient boards. When he opened his mouth to scream, the noxious water poured into his lungs.


	2. And Then There Were Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo Ren returns to the Finalizer following his conception. Hux begins to suspect that something is amiss.

He woke with a start. He sat up in bed, breathing heavily. It took him several minutes to calm down, to realize that he was in his own bed in his quarters at Snoke’s fortress. He did not drown. He was not on a boat. He swung his feet out of bed and buried his face in his hands, feeling ashamed for getting so worked up over a stupid dream. His skin felt cold and sweaty and there was a horrible taste in his mouth. What had happened during the ritual? How had he made it back to his rooms? He noticed that he was wearing his clothing again but his boots were on the floor beside the bed. How long had he been asleep? He checked his chronometer and was surprised to see that a full day had passed since the ritual. He rose shakily from the pallet to go and wash when he heard the door chime.

He cursed. Who could possibly be bothering him? He went to the door and looked into the viewfinder. Standing outside his door was a First Order medic, a slim man about 45 or 50 with short gray hair.

Kylo frowned. Who the hell was this? He hadn’t summoned anyone. After quickly replacing his helmet, he pressed the intercom. “What is it?” he demanded in a tone that was meant to sound intimidating but came out sounding almost choked.

“Lord Ren, my name is Dr. Pallas. Supreme Leader Snoke sent me to tend to you. I have some things I need to go over with you.”

Ren was instantly suspicious, but a quick skim of the officer’s mind told him that he was telling the truth. He’d wondered if he would be receiving any sort of special medical care during the process, and apparently he was.

“Are you to be my private physician throughout the duration of … for the next several months?”

“Yes, pending your approval, of course.”

Kylo Ren reluctantly let this man inside. He was feeling weak and vulnerable and he just wanted to be alone. But he knew that he might eventually need help—he had no idea what this unnatural pregnancy had in store for his body. He would certainly require help when it came time to give birth.

He hit the controls and admitted Dr. Pallas. The doctor entered cheerfully and began removing items from his medical bag, as if this was his private practice.

“Well then,” he said, clasping his hands together. “Shall we begin? I think you can take that off.” He gestured towards the helmet. Ren obliged. He knew it would have to come off eventually. “Oh, and go ahead and remove your shirt, too.”

Ren didn’t know if the medic even knew what his face looked like underneath, but he didn’t stare or express shock at the boyish appearance of the Master of the Knights of Ren. “Sit, please, if you don’t mind.” A standard examination followed. His blood pressure was excellent, his eyes and ears looked fine, his heart and lungs sounded normal. The doctor drew a small vial of blood and requested a urine sample to take back to his lab. After the examination, he sat down on the small metal chair and pulled out his data pad. “So far, so good,” he muttered to himself. “I’ll send you your lab results within 48 hours. I’m guessing from your color that your hemoglobin is low, so you’ll probably need extra iron.” He took a few bottles out of his bag and handed them to Ren.

“What are these?”

“Pre-natal vitamins. Seeing as how this is an unprecedented case, I can only prescribe what a human woman would normally require. We can change the prescription if needed. It’s very important to take one of each every day. I’m also sending you a list of foods to avoid—absolutely no caffeine or alcohol—and no cigarettes. You don’t smoke, do you?”

“No.”

“Good. Don’t ever, ever start. Now, the Supreme Leader spoke to me about the possibility of speeding up the pregnancy through meditation? I personally dislike that idea, but I have heard many cases of force-sensitive individuals safely performing that act. I would advise no more than two hours of meditation a day. If there are any complications resulting from the accelerated development, then it must be halted immediately—and yes, that order comes directly from Snoke. Make sure you’re eating plenty—over the next week or two, you’ll be literally growing new body parts to accommodate the embryo. You’ll find you’ll feel hungrier than usual. Eat as much as your body wants. Later on, it you might lose your appetite, and you’ll definitely need the fat reserves. Now, do you have any questions for me?”

Ren paused for a few moments, fighting the urge to say no, so that this nosy medic would leave him alone. But he did have questions; he had so many questions.

“Am I pregnant yet?” he asked awkwardly. “I don’t feel any different.”

“If you don’t feel any different then no, probably not yet. Force-sensitive individuals can nearly always sense a developing child, especially if it’s inside him or her. In a human, it takes some time between insemination and actual impregnation. You are a unique case because you obviously don’t ovulate and there was no insemination involved. But from what I understand, you will be the sole parent of this child. Somehow, the Force is taking all of the genetic material that it needs from you and is creating an embryo. I’ve never dealt with a case quite like this, so I don’t entirely know what to expect.”

“If I can successfully accelerate the pregnancy, how quickly will the child grow?”

“Well, that depends on how quickly you can safely accelerate the growth. Based on case studies with other Force-sensitives, I’d say probably no less than four months. I won’t really know until I can take some scans and analyze the growth rate.”

“All right. I wanted to know one more thing. How incapacitated will I be during this experience?”

“Well, It’s different for everyone. You may experience morning sickness—of course, this can actually happen any time of the night or day, but it’s more prevalent after you fast for long periods. That could range from mild to severe. That normally goes away at the end of the first trimester. You could have some other digestive issues as well. You _will_ feel exhausted, Force or no Force. You will need to rest more than before. You also will likely experience some emotional side effects. You may feel very sad or lonely or irritable for no reason—these are due to hormonal changes. Whether you continue to work is perhaps something we will have to discuss later—it may be up to the Supreme Leader. When the pregnancy starts to really show, you are to stay here until you deliver the child.”

Ren nodded.

“Now, is that all?”

“I think so.”

“Very well. I will leave my contact information with you. Please call me any time, day or night. You are my sole patient now. I have quarters here, and I’m to travel with you wherever you go.”

Ren frowned. He did not like the idea of this loquacious medic hovering around. “I don’t want you dropping by unannounced. And I do not want any of the crew or command staff to know about this. At least not yet.”

“I understand that you appreciate your privacy. I will do my best to honor your request while ensuring that you receive the most attentive care.”

Ren narrowed his eyes. “Fine.” He was caught between the desire to push this intrusive presence away and his need for his professional attentions.

“I’ll return in two days’ time at 1800 hours,” Dr. Pallas replied. “Thank you for your time.” And then he left.

Finally, Ren thought. He flopped back down on his bed. That exchange was exhausting. Was this fatigue leftover from the ritual, or was this the beginning of his symptoms? Hopefully not. He drifted off into a light sleep.

When it happened he woke immediately. He knew exactly what it was. That tiny spark, that little tremor in the Force deep inside of his belly. He touched his stomach with his hands, shocked and mesmerized—the sensation was so strange. There was no heartbeat, no consciousness, no indication of personhood whatsoever … and yet, he knew it was there and rapidly growing. It was so, so small! How could something so tiny grow into a human being? The feeling was odd and not a little unsettling. He felt an unexpected desire to commune with the little spark, to nurture it, to encourage it to develop. He searched for the Supreme Leader in his mind and sent out the wordless announcement. Minutes later came the acknowledgement and the instructions to meditate.

He settled down onto his mat and closed his eyes. He thought that he would be disgusted and annoyed when it finally did happen, and yet he felt surprised and excited. It worked, he thought. Whatever the Supreme Leader did, it worked. Not only was he getting an apprentice to train, he was siring an heir as well. He felt pleased with himself. He thought about what Dr. Pallas had said about Force-sensitive individuals sensing a child. Did Luke Skywalker know? Would his mother be able to sense something? That was difficult to say. He didn’t think so, and he certainly hoped not. He wanted this for himself. This child would be so much more amazing than those disappointing creatures he once called his family. This child would become his true family—his legacy—and he knew that from now on he would never be lonely again.

\-----

Four weeks later. The Finalizer

General Armitage Hux stood on the bridge of the First Order’s flagship Finalizer, watching Kylo Ren approach. He narrowed his pale green eyes. For the past couple of weeks, he’d noticed something strange about the knight. He couldn’t quite put it into words, but something about his demeanor or attitude seemed … off. He was quieter and less argumentative, almost passive. He appeared distant, and the general often had to repeat himself in his company. He was also frequently absent from command meetings, spending days at a time in his quarters. There was a rumor that he was ill; apparently, a personal medic was frequently spotted coming to and from the direction of his rooms.

As Kylo Ren approached, Hux turned to face the viewport, clasping his hands behind his back. The knight stopped beside him and said nothing, as if waiting for Hux to speak first. This in itself was odd. Ren rarely sought him out unless he was out for blood or perhaps relaying orders from the Supreme Leader. Of course, he had not spent much time with the force-user since Starkiller—perhaps the experience changed him.

Hux waited a few more moments —he was less curious as to what Ren wanted and more interested in continuing to observe this odd behavior. Perhaps he could somehow exploit the situation to make himself look better in the eyes of their leader.

“Yes, what is it?” Hux finally asked in a casually arrogant tone.

Ren waited a few moments before speaking, as if he’d forgotten what he came in for. “I’d like a report.”

Hux snorted. “ You’d like a report. On what?” Hux said incredulously.

“Anything of note. The running of the ship.”

“Whatever for?”

Ren was silent for several more moments. “I am not currently occupied. I’d like to know … if there is any way I could be of assistance.”

Hux was baffled. Was Kylo Ren actually offering his time?

“You could start showing up at command meetings,” he snapped. “Or, completing your assigned missions.” He turned to take a data pad from one of the many pale-faced, uniformed wraiths that haunted the bridge. “ But really Ren, shouldn’t you be … I don’t know … force-choking a lieutenant or trashing some bit of expensive equipment?” Hux slowly turned to Ren, curious to see his reaction.

But Ren just stood there, almost awkwardly, as if a fog surrounded him. Normally, any insult, even the tired barbs that Hux had just launched, would provoke a strong reaction from him. But it was like he didn’t hear them, or didn’t care. It wasn’t like Ren to pass down the chance for a fight, verbal or otherwise.

Ren did not respond. Instead, he began wandering around the bridge, peering into the sunken workstations. The officers all kept their eyes on their screens and continued working diligently, but Hux knew they had to be feeling nervous under that scrutinizing gaze. He finally turned to face Hux once more.

“If you require anything, I will be in my quarters.”

Hux was now quite suspicious. “I will keep that in mind. Now, unless you have anything important to tell me, kindly leave. You’ve wasted enough of my time as it is.”

Ren turned and left, walking away slowly in same sluggish manner of his approach.

The General frowned. Kylo Ren was up to something, and he was going to find out what that something was.


	3. A Daunting Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux complains to Snoke, while Ren struggles through his first few weeks.

“… He’s not doing anything, Supreme Leader! He rarely attends command meetings, he bows out of missions or executes them sloppily, and then he just shows up and wanders around the bridge during beta shift, intimidating my men …”

“General,” replied Snoke with an unpleasant stare. “Kylo Ren is not your concern.”

“I beg your pardon, Supreme Leader, but I cannot adequately complete my duties when I am constantly counting on him and he never pulls through…”

The Supreme Leader leaned forward, the large holographic projection flickering. “Kylo Ren has his own duties. He is performing them adequately. He is under a great deal of physical strain as a result.”

“What duties? He stays in his room all day…”

“General!” he barked, angry now. "Are you so incompetent that you cannot run your own ship without the assistance of Kylo Ren? His present task should not take more than two or three months. He will be able to participate in missions afterwards.”

Hux frowned. He’d gone too far, and the Supreme Leader had shouted at him. He should be more careful. The Supreme Leader was surprisingly forgiving after the destruction of Starkiller base, and he didn’t want to push his good fortune.

“General, your command meetings … what time of day do you hold them?”

“0900 sharp every first day of the week—it’s the same schedule we’ve always had.”

“Move them to the evenings and Kylo Ren will attend. If you need help with a mission, give Kylo Ren a supporting job that he can perform from his quarters."

 _What an odd request,_ though Hux. “Yes, Supreme Leader,” he replied obediently, bowing. He turned and left he holographic chamber.

Moving the time of the command meetings seemed quite arbitrary, and Snoke had not mentioned why it was important. Still, if it would persuade the force-user to come … as much as he hated to admit it, Hux was quite busy and could use the help. Despite their differences—and his occasional lapses in temper—Kylo Ren was a competent associate. Their next meeting was the following day. He called Phasma and his lieutenants on his comlink to advise them of the revised start time. He called Kylo Ren, but he didn’t answer. Hux sighed. He never answered his comm…. Hux knew he would have to stop by Ren’s quarters and deliver the message in person.

When he reached Ren’s quarters, he pressed the buzzer impatiently. Hux knew Ren was inside—the tracking beacon he wore told him so. He rang the buzzer again—still nothing. He tried the commlink once more. Hux was frustrated. It was half past eleven in the morning; he couldn’t possibly be asleep? What was he doing in there?

He was about to ring the buzzer one last time, when the door suddenly slid open, revealing, not Kylo Ren, but a First Order medical officer. What was his name? Dr. Pelleon? Dr. Pallet? Dr. Pallas—that was it. He stuck out in Hux’s memories because he was a recent transfer whose files had been classified—very strange business for a mere medic to be classified. He’d been rushed in too, at the direct request of the Supreme Leader—the situation was very odd.

“General!” he greeted. “What a surprise. How can I help you?”

“Is Kylo Ren in? I was hoping to speak to him.”

“Oh, um … yes! Yes, he is. One moment please. Do come in. Wait here, please!” Hux entered reluctantly as the medic scurried across the common room through the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. From the direction of the refresher, he could hear the muffled sounds of someone retching and coughing. _Was Ren sick? Were the rumors about his illness true?_

Hux crept across the room to the bedroom and listened at the closed door. The walls were thick, but he could make out snippets of hushed whispers.

“… equivalent of the three month mark, so this should hopefully be stopping soon… should feel more energetic … gain more weight too … someone here to see you…” Hux hurried back through the darkened room to take his place at the entrance. The medic soon emerged.

“General, I am quite sorry, but Lord Ren is currently indisposed. May I convey a message?”

“Yes,” said Hux. “Please let Kylo Ren know that we have moved tomorrow’s command meeting to 1800 hours, and I fully expect to see him there.”

The medic nodded. “Yes, sir! I will give him your message. Thank you very much for stopping by.” He quickly approached the door, activating the controls—Hux got the strong impression that this man very much wanted him to leave. As Hux turned to leave, he heard the renewed sounds of vomiting coming from the closed bedroom door—against his better judgment, he found himself feeling a bit concerned.

\-----

Kylo Ren rested his head against the cool metal surface of the waste disposal unit. He felt terrible—his ribs ached, he couldn’t stop trembling, and his head was beginning to hurt. He’d just thrown up six times and he wasn’t so sure that he was finished yet. ‘Morning sickness’ sounded like too pleasant a euphemism for the crippling nausea and uncontrollable vomiting that had plagued him for the last three weeks.

Dr. Pallas returned to the room. “That was General Hux. He asked me to let you know that they’ve moved your command meeting to 1800 tomorrow.”

“Ok,” Ren murmured. Hopefully he’d be able to go. The general had made it very clear how displeased he was with him when he met him on the bridge the previous evening. Ren knew he hadn’t been much help lately, but he still couldn’t understand Hux’s aggressive attitude. Ren was only offering to help, to assist him with some task or even take over a bridge shift (an evening shift, that is). But Ren knew that wasn’t the real reason he sought the general out. As much as he hated to admit it, and as ridiculous as it seemed, Ren almost … missed Hux. Abrasive company was company nevertheless. He was almost desperate for a familiar face, especially since he’d been more or less quarantined in his room for days with no one but this prattling medic. This misplaced urge disturbed him. He was acting so needy—it was disgraceful. Was this something to do with hormones?

“I’m going to give you an anti-emetic,” Pallas said, prepping a needle. “You’re dehydrated and you need to get some food in you too.”

Food. The very thought of anything to eat, even the blandest, most inoffensive food made his stomach roil. He had no appetite, even when he wasn’t vomiting. He’d already lost ten pounds the past few weeks instead of gaining the weight he needed. The nausea had begun violently the second week after becoming pregnant. Every day since he’d suffered to some degree. Some days he managed to swallow and keep down a minimum of food. On other days, he could take in nothing. On multiple occasions, the doctor had hooked him up to an IV to give him fluids and nutrients. He was desperately worried that his ongoing sickness might negatively affect the child, but he sensed no discomfort from the warm little glow inside him.

He felt the cold sting of the alcohol swab and then the sharp bite of the hypodermic. It felt glorious—the very thought of stopping the nausea made the needle pleasurable.

“My head aches,” he murmured.

“That’s because you’re dehydrated,” Pallas replied. “You need water. If you’re finished here I want you in bed. That shot should start working very quickly. I’ll bring you something on a tray.”

Ren climbed into bed, still shaking. He propped himself up on his pillows and leaned back, closing his eyes. How had he become so pathetic? He was Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren, heir to Darth Vader and apprentice to Supreme Leader Snoke. And yet he was lying shaking in bed in the middle of the day completely dependent on a nurse. He felt consumed by weakness, and this made him angry. He was angry that his suffering seemed to find no end. This trial was destroying him—if he kept on in this manner, he wasn’t sure his body would able to complete the daunting task of growing a force-sensitive child inside of him.

The doctor thrust a tray table in his lap, laden with dry toast and a salty broth. He braced himself for the inevitable wave of nausea, and yet it didn’t come. He had no appetite, yet neither did he feel like he was going to be sick. He ate slowly, hoping desperately that the injection worked long enough for him to eat and keep down at least one paltry meal.

“I can’t take much more of this,” he muttered. “What am I going to do if this doesn’t stop?”

“Well, we’ll think of something. But according to the ultrasound scans, the baby’s at the end of the first trimester. The nausea should be stopping soon. I think you’ll find that your appetite will improve considerably. At this rate, you’ll start showing soon, but it probably won’t look obvious until another month or so—not with your heavy robes.”

Ren ate in silence, and before long there were only crumbs. He leaned back against the pillows, cradling a hot cup of herbal tea in this large hands. “Have you delivered many babies?” he asked.

“Oh, yes. Dozens. Humans and nonhumans. I’ve also treated and nursed a variety of mothers, and fathers as well, as in your case.”

“It’s going to be very, very painful, isn’t it?”

“What, giving birth?”

“Yes.”

“It’s going to be horrid.”

Ren sighed. “That’s what I thought. But I have a distinct advantage. I’m well-accustomed to physical discomfort. I can withstand a great deal of pain, and I can call on the Force to dull any ache I can’t stand.”

"I see ... just as the Force has helped ease your persistent nausea?"

Ren hissed. "That's different," he snapped. "You should shut up about things you don't know about."

Dr. Pallas sighed. "Yes, Lord Ren … but please believe me when I say that this is pain like no other. Naturally, I cannot say from personal experience, but I have worked as an obstetrician and a reproductive consultant for thirty years. This is enough to make the strongest woman bawl. Also, you mustn’t forget that you have a telepathic link with the child, and during labor, the child will be panicking. So, you will have the psychic equivalent of a screaming infant in your mind to accompany your own agony. I fully expect for you to tear, and you could possibly fracture your hipbones, depending on how large the baby grows. If the child starts to become too heavy, I may need to induce labor to help ensure that you will be able to physically deliver the baby.”

“I don’t understand why I have to give birth. Why can’t the baby just be removed surgically?”

“That, my Lord, is a last resort. If it comes to that, it comes to that—but it’s generally best to avoid major abdominal surgery if it’s not absolutely necessary.”

Ren sighed. “I suppose. I don’t think the Supreme Leader would like that, anyway.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I think he wants to humiliate me. I think that this is part of my training—to suffer pain and humiliation, and to learn how to emerge stronger from the trial.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. But if that’s the case, it’s not for me to question our Supreme Leader.”

“No. I suppose not.” He finished his tea and handed the empty cup to his nurse. “I think I’ll sleep a little while.” He nestled back into the pillows, delighting in the sensual pleasure of simply feeling well for a change. He could use a good nap—most of his nights were plagued with strange dreams and his mornings were dominated by sickness.

“I do think the Supreme Leader is wrong about one thing,” he murmured.

“I beg your pardon?”

“He seems to think that I’ll have trouble controlling my affections for the child. That it will be difficult for me not to love it. But his concern is misplaced. I have never wanted a child. I have killed children. I want a student to train, not a child to love. If I can just survive until the birth, then I will have accomplished my goal.”

Dr. Pallas was silent for several moments. “Lord Ren, may I speak freely?”

Ren snorted. “When do you ever do anything else? Go ahead.”

“Well, be that as it may … I think that you may not understand what is going to happen—indeed, what is happening now—in your mind and body. With each passing day, especially since you are Force-sensitive, you are forming a closer and closer bond with that baby. When you hold that infant in your arms, the world around you is going to melt away. You will destroy worlds to protect that child. And simply deciding to ‘not love it’ may prove harder than you think. To be honest, enduring the agony of childbirth will be easy compared to refraining from attaching to your own flesh and blood.”

Ren laughed softly. Dr. Pallas was a well-meaning nurse, and a competent medic, but he was a fool. He didn’t understand the Dark Side. He didn’t understand the pain and torment that Kylo Ren had already suffered for his master, for his training. In his narrow view of the world, he assumed that, deep down, Kylo Ren was just like everyone else. A normal human being, like one of the dozens of mothers that this naïve doctor had treated throughout his career. But Kylo Ren had benefited from this man’s attentions, and he decided to humor him.

“We shall see,” he murmured.


	4. Luke's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, on Ahch-To, Rey convinces Luke Skywalker to train her. She learns more about Ben.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, we find out in one of the new novels that Ben doesn't turn to the Dark Side until he is in his twenties, but I have invented my own history for him here. This chapter takes place earlier than the current events--the vision that Luke experiences comes from the future.

Luke Skywalker knew she was coming.

He could sense her Force signature before she was in orbit. He didn’t want her to come. He wanted to live out the rest of his days in solitude. If his best efforts led to Ben’s fall and the deaths of his padawans, then it was better that he exile himself. He didn’t belong with the rest of the world. If he could not help the ones he loved, then it was better that he stayed away. He was tired of death, tired of fighting. It was all so pointless. But now, she was coming. And he couldn’t hide any more.

When she held his lightsaber out to him, he felt something terrible threaten to rush back into him—a sense of responsibility, the yoke of heroism that had been far too heavy to bear. He fought against it—he had already lived that life. And yet, he knew he still had work to do. The struggle was not yet over, and it was selfish and naïve of him to believe that he could hide forever.

“Rey,” he croaked, voice rusty with disuse. “I’ve been expecting you.”

She was at a loss for words. She’d been thinking of what to say to him the entire trip there. She rehearsed so many questions, so many conversations in her mind, and yet, now that she was face to face with him, she suddenly realized that she didn’t even know how to address him. Should she call him Master? Master Skywalker? Luke?

“Luke is fine,” he replied, reluctantly accepting the lightsaber. “I lost the claim to Master long ago.”

“But that’s where you’re wrong,” she said. “So much has happened. We need you. _I_ need you. Will you train me?”

He sighed. He sensed her passion, her anxiety, the pure force of her life-strength rolling off of her in waves. She was so young and strong and oh, so powerful—untrained, yes, but with so much potential. He remembered when he felt like that. He had also once been eager and idealistic, filled with dreams and pure intentions. That was ages ago, on Tatooine—he recalled standing in old Ben Kenobi’s little hut, mesmerized and adoring. Ben. The name alone caused him terrible pain. Would this wound never heal?

“Do you really want me to train you? Surely you’re aware of my great failure. Perhaps you should seek out a better teacher.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she countered. “Kylo Ren made his own choices. I fought him at Starkiller Base. He told me I needed a teacher. I want you to be that teacher. _Please,_ Luke.”

He sighed deeply. He wanted to say no, to send her away. He wanted to spare her the great burden of the Jedi, the never-ending struggle to instill some kind of order in a chaotic universe. But he knew he could not turn her away. He had known from the moment he sensed her approach that he would help her.

“Come inside, Rey. We have much to discuss.”

\-----

The little hut was surprisingly dry and comfortable. There was little in the way of furniture. A central stone hearth dominated the round interior. There was a simple pallet, an old trunk, one bench, and a table. Luke removed a battered iron kettle from the fire and poured two cups of tea. “Please be seated,” he said, gesturing to his own bed, the most comfortable seat in the hut. He sat down on the stone bench.

“I suppose you want to know what happened fifteen years ago, from my point of view at least. It’s not a pleasant story, and it will not be easy for me to recall such painful memories. But you deserve to know. Your destiny is now tangled up with mine. If you are going to defeat the person who calls himself Kylo Ren, then you should know his backstory.

“Ben was my great failure. I loved him dearly, as if he were my own son. As you know, he was very strong with the Force. Leia was always strong with the Force as well, but she never really developed her abilities. But Ben … he shone like no other padawan. It was a little alarming, how strong he was, and how quickly he developed his powers. Leia grew afraid—we could both sense the Dark Side in him, and we wanted to stifle it, to redirect that tendency into something positive. Han and Leia sent Ben away with me, to my new Jedi Academy. He didn’t want to go. He wanted to learn and train, of course, but he was a sensitive boy and didn’t want to leave his family. Leia was always so busy with the Rebellion and never had as much time as she wanted to spend with her son. I think he felt that loss more greatly than any of us realized at the time. And there was also the issue of Han. I loved Han like a brother and I felt his loss greatly, as I know you and Chewbacca, and especially Leia, do … but Han was not always easy to live with. Han and Leia fought a great deal. He was not faithful to Leia. Even at such a young age, Ben knew and resented him for it.

"When Ben came to live with me, he cried for days. He was sullen and temperamental by nature, and now he felt abandoned as well. I think he felt that his parents either didn’t want him anymore, or that they were perhaps afraid of his power. Leia wanted him to train with me because she thought I could help him. Ironically, the steps we took to curb his Dark tendencies probably pushed him in that direction more firmly than anything else we could have done. Nevertheless, he soon adjusted to his new life and seemed to be content, if not happy.

“He grew more and more powerful, easily eclipsing my other padawans. That, and the fact that he was my nephew, and a prince, set him apart from the others. They resented him, and he found it very hard to make friends. He was introverted by nature but still felt the pang of loneliness very keenly. I don’t think he really had a friend until you arrived.

Rey nearly choked on her tea. “Sorry?”

“You were a student at my academy, Rey. It was a very long time ago. You were brought to me when you were only four—this was about a year before Ben left for good. You were an orphan. You were a little frightened at first, but you soon adapted. You were sunny and loving and made friends with everyone. Even lonely Ben, who the others teased and shunned and yet envied. You were too little to care what the others thought. And Ben liked you. Ben responded to you in a way I’d never seen before, and watching the two of you together filled me with hope. But little did I know, he was already lost.

“I’d often noticed that Ben seemed distracted during his youth, and I knew that he suffered from nightmares. I made the mistake of giving him distance, thinking that he needed space to work out his own problems. I didn’t know until much later that there was a specific reason for this.

“I still don’t know how Snoke found him. How he managed to latch onto his consciousness and dig his claws in. Perhaps he could sense him in the Force. I know that Ben spent a lot of time meditating, much more than a boy of his age should. He was always curious about his grandfather. He wanted to know more about Anakin Skywalker. I think that he was searching for him in the Force, and found someone else instead. They communicated for years before ever meeting face to face. I should have known something was wrong when as a young boy, Ben asked the other students if they too had secret masters, who spoke to them in their dreams. I knew that Ben had always had vivid dreams, and so I dismissed this as the product of an overactive imagination. Over the years, Ben seemed to become more distant and bitter. He rebelled against me on numerous occasions, even running away a few times. But he always came back. One night, the day before his fifteenth birthday, we had a terrible fight. I don’t remember what started it—it seemed like we were always arguing about something. He told me that he hated me, and that he had always hated me. That he hated his parents. That I was foolish and naïve and weak, and that my dream of reestablishing the Jedi was doomed to failure. He confessed that he wished he had never been born, and then he fled. To my great shame, I found myself hoping he wouldn’t come back.

“It happened six weeks later. I was away from the academy, leaving my adult students in charge. I hadn’t gone far, not even off-planet. For days, I had sensed a disturbance in the Force—some encroaching darkness, and I went to investigate. I wanted to protect my school, my students. I know now it was a false alarm, a ploy to drive me away and leave my students unprotected. He came, with his knights—his order of dark force-users. And my Ben was dead—he had been reborn as Kylo Ren, master of the Knights of Ren. It was a hot night, humid and rainy. I was on the other side of the planet when it happened. I felt the screams in my mind like knives. And I knew, instinctively, even from such a great distance, that my padawans were being murdered. That my nephew had betrayed me. By the time I returned, the carnage was done. There were bodies everywhere, crushed in the mud. The rain had stopped, but thunder still rumbled overhead. And I fled. I fled in my X-wing with Artoo and then sent him back to Leia after coming here. I instructed him to shut down as soon as he returned, to not answer any questions about my whereabouts.

“I never knew if anyone had survived. I didn’t think they had. But clearly you did, somehow. I don’t know how.”

“My family brought me to Jakku when I was five,” Rey whispered, tears welling in her eyes.

“Rey, you had no family. Somehow, someone was able to spirit you away. And I think you know who it was. I can sense it in you.”

Rey set down her mug of tea, which had long gone cold. “When I touched your lightsaber, on Takodana, I had a vision. I saw it, Luke … I saw the massacre. I saw you touch the astromech with a metal hand. I fell into the mud, and someone raised a red lightsaber to cut me down … but … Kylo Ren killed him. Kylo Ren killed one of his own knights to save me. I think he was the one who brought me to Jakku!”

Luke smiled weakly. “I imagine he thought that you would stay there forever, safe if not happy. Perhaps even he could not bring himself to cut down something so pure. He no doubt wiped your mind, but some memories cannot be completely erased.”

Rey hugged her knees, feeling lost and disoriented. Her enemy had saved her. But Kylo Ren was a monster. Suddenly, it all made sense to her. Why he never raised a hand to her during her interrogation. How she was able to defeat him on Starkiller Base. Why he had offered to teach her. He remembered her. He recognized her. He was trying to subdue her without harming her.

She suddenly felt cold and dirty, as if tainted by her link to him. She still had trouble accepting that Kylo Ren had saved her, that someone so corrupt and selfish could care so much about a little nameless girl, just because she had been kind to him. And yet, he had brutally invaded her mind, forcing open a bond. It didn’t make sense to her.

“If he was once your padawan, then the two of you must have had a bond,” she realized. “Is that bond still intact? Can you sense him now?”

Luke suddenly looked very sad. “Yes and no. A bond can never really be broken, but it can decay. If I wanted, I could perhaps sense him. I wouldn’t know where he was, or what he was doing or planning, but I may be able to catch a fleeting glimpse of his mind. But the hour is late. You should rest. Please, take my bed. We will continue to talk in the morning.”

Rey suddenly realized that she was very tired. Her journey and their long conversation had sapped her strength. The interior of the hut was primitive, but it was dry and warm, and Luke’s small bed was so comfortable. She was asleep within minutes.

Luke remained awake for a long time. He walked outside into the chilly, damp air and listened to the ocean. The stars seemed very bright that night—a half moon dipped by the horizon. And suddenly, with no warning, he was thrown into a vision.

He was on a boat in the middle of an ocean. He did not know where he was, but he instinctively knew that he was no longer on Ahch-To. He was someplace impossibly far away, perhaps even someplace completely unreal. The sky above was filled with the light of millions of pure, white stars, and the surface of the sea below was glassy and dark. _Ben,_ he suddenly thought. _Ben is here … but how?_ He cast out a mental net, searching for his nephew. And he found something. He found two somethings. He felt Ben and he knew it was him. He could sense the pain and the darkness, the torment and the raw power. But there was another Ben, too. A much smaller Ben. The boat was ancient and large. The air was cold and yet the wooden surface of the vessel seemed somehow warm. After what seemed like hours of wandering, he found him. He was seated under the carved figurehead of a snarling beast, dressed in deep red robes. He held a birdcage in his lap with a tiny black dove inside.

“She’s not a pet, of course,” he muttered, as if talking to himself. Did Ben know he was here? Where _was_ here, anyway? The red-robed figure opened the cage door and allowed the bird to hop on his finger. He brought the animal to his face and gently nuzzled it against his cheek. “She’s mine. She’s definitely mine, and you will never have her. You won’t take her away from me. But no, she’s not like a pet.”

Luke grew closer. What could all of this mean? Had Ben reached out to him? Had he, in recalling his memories of his nephew, somehow called out to him in the Force? He was now face to face with Ben, who, despite having addressed him, still seemed ignorant of his presence. Luke reached out and lightly touched the little birdcage.

Ben’s eyes snapped open, glowing yellow. _“You,”_ he hissed, with such venom and hatred that Luke felt himself toppling backwards. He was falling into the ocean, drowning in the cold water that had suddenly become choppy. There was thunder and lightning in the sky and he heard the sounds of his long-dead padawans’ screams in the distance. He was choking—he was dying—he was suffocating in this monstrous dark sea, and just as he felt his own life-force slipping away, it was suddenly over.

The night around him was quiet. He was back outside his own hut on Ahch-To. He could sense Rey’s tranquil presence from inside his house. His heart was racing, and he struggled to hold onto the vision as it slipped away. There was a boat, he had seen Ben, only Ben was … transformed? Altered, in some way? Had there been another person there? No, they had been alone … and yet he had sensed something. He remembered something about birds and cages, something important, and yet …. And the vision slipped away. He could remember nothing else.

Luke sat down on the damp ground and struggled to meditate. He had the distinct feeling that he had stumbled on something terribly important, and he was determined to solve this enigma. If not for his sake, then at least for Rey’s. And perhaps for Ben’s, as well.


	5. In the Castle by the Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo Ren is recalled to Snoke's fortress.

_One Month Later_

Hux simultaneously came to two conclusions: one, that he would never, ever understand Kylo Ren, and two, it was a complete waste of time to even try to do so. Days after vowing to track down the source of the knight’s odd shift in behavior, everything returned to normal. Kylo Ren began showing up at meetings again and completing his assigned missions. He stopped seeking Hux out for what appeared to be no reason, his aggressive personality returned, and the vacant fog that seemed to follow him everywhere dissipated. Hux was dumbfounded. Perhaps Kylo Ren really had been sick. He’d never known him to be ill, but after all, he was only human. Or, perhaps he finished whatever secret task he was working on for Snoke—the task that was supposedly sapping his strength. At any rate, Hux was glad to have him back. He could use his help. After a brief period of inactivity, the Resistance was at it again. Backed into a corner with the destruction of the Republic, they had become more unpredictable and violent. They were even resorting to guerilla terrorist attacks on major First Order worlds. In addition to the senseless loss of life, the recent attacks had diverted stormtroopers from the front, meaning that Hux had to reevaluate several key battle plans to make do with fewer numbers. Furthermore, he had to organize task forces to secure both the worlds affected by the terror attacks and the ones that First Order Intelligence predicted would be next. This was where he liked having Ren around. With his force-sensitivity, the knight could sense anxiety and deceit, easily scouting out the so called “freedom fighters,” in many cases before they even reached their targets.

His commlink suddenly pinged, with a message from none other than Kylo Ren.

HUX—CALLED TO SNOKES FORTRESS FOR MONTH OR TWO. MY KNIGHTS AT YOUR DISPOSAL. –KR

Hux sighed. _Great._ He hated dealing with the knights of Ren even more than he hated dealing with their master. They answered to no one except Snoke, and occasionally Ren himself. They did not like taking orders, especially from a non-force user. Still, it was better than nothing. He set out to revise his plans, once again. He wondered what Snoke could possibly have Ren doing that was more important than fighting the Resistance, and cursed himself for thinking he could depend on his erratic colleague.

\-----

Kylo Ren fell into an easy rhythm once he arrived at his master’s fortress. He usually rose well before dawn each morning to go walking along the pebbly beach. The air was chilly, but fresh, and he could clear his mind before the noisy sea birds made their appearance. Since he was no longer in any condition to train, walking was one of the few forms of exercise he got anymore. The sun was small and weak, struggling to penetrate the thick cloud cover, but he enjoyed watching it rise nevertheless. After his long walk through the swirling fog, he was cold and tired, and he retreated to his room for a hot bath and a nap before the large fireplace. After an hour or two of rest, he was more than ready for breakfast. He was always hungry these days. What a change from two months ago, when he could barely choke down a ration bar and a cup of weak tea. The kitchen staff was quiet but efficient, leaving the heavily-laden cart outside his bedroom door, and Ren feasted each morning on plates of smoked kippers, sausages, heavily buttered slices of toast, porridge, and slices of a deep purple pear-like fruit. After breakfast, he generally checked his messages and studied, reading from his data pad and the large collection of ancient scrolls and codices in Snoke’s library. When he was finished, he enjoyed an equally large and sumptuous luncheon.

During the afternoons, he took a walk downstairs through the catacombs, preferring the shadowy cool of the underground passages to the beach outside—too much exposure to sunshine, even the weak, milky light of this planet, seemed to bother his eyes and skin so much these days. When it suited him, he took a swim in the subterranean lake, careful to avoid the deeper pools where the sea snakes tended to congregate. After his afternoon exercise, he meditated and then ate dinner in the large banqueting hall, where Snoke sometimes joined him. His master ate little, but Ren gorged himself on roasted barve legs, sliced root vegetables, cheeses, and thick slices of fruit cakes.

Snoke was immensely pleased at his progress. Ren had grown very large in the past few weeks and was growing bigger all the time. He would be ready to deliver soon. Despite the accelerated growth, the child was perfectly healthy and immensely strong with the force. Both men could sense the child’s astonishing power, even in utero. Despite his doctor’s attempts to intimidate him, Ren still looked forward anxiously to his child’s birth.

Ren always retired early. He still needed a great deal of rest, and now his back and hips were constantly aching. After dark, the old castle seemed to come alive with noises as the ocean wind howled against the turrets and rats scurried along the walls. But Ren didn’t mind much. In general, the fortress was a peaceful place at night. Snoke’s castle was one of the few places he felt content. He generally slept well, although he occasionally woke from an odd nightmare or a strange sound he couldn’t identify. One night, he dreamed of Luke Skywalker confronting him on a boat, but the feeble old Jedi fell overboard and drowned before he could learn his secret. He continued to worry that Luke and Leia would sense the developing offspring, although Snoke assured him he had nothing to be concerned about.

But Kylo Ren’s small respite did not last long. Soon, his back, hips, and joints grew so painful that he could barely walk. He developed agonizing heartburn that made it difficult to eat much, despite his ravenous appetite. He became crankier, more irritable, and more impatient as he began to feel trapped. It was difficult for him to even get out of bed without help from Dr. Pallas, and he hated being dependent on others. The baby was restless as well, twisting and kicking him at all hours of the night and day. Ren was decidedly foul-tempered, desperate to evict the intruder and reclaim his body as his own.

One morning, Snoke appeared in his doorway. “It will be very soon now, Kylo Ren,” he stated. “I have recalled General Hux and the Knights of Ren. As our allies, I would like for them to witness this momentous occasion.”

Ren frowned “You never said anything about having an audience. I intended to give birth in private.”

“But why, Kylo Ren? Are you afraid you won’t be able to control the pain? Or are you simply that vain? Have I damaged your fragile ego, in giving you this magnificent gift? This event is akin to a royal birth, and royal births demand witnesses.”

Ren burned with humiliation. After months of suffering, of hiding his condition, his closest and most judgmental allies would see him at his weakest and most vulnerable state. “I accept your wishes, Master,” he answered quietly, seething with anger.

He suffered cramps and pains for the rest of the day—by the afternoon, he was nearing agony. He couldn’t eat—he couldn’t sleep. He tried to meditate but was unable to concentrate. He did nothing but toss in his bed in front of the fire, groaning and whimpering like an animal. The Force did little to ease his suffering and Snoke had forbidden the use of all unnecessary painkillers. The hours passed slowly, as he helplessly floated in a sea of pain and discomfort. Dr. Pallas was there, hovering in the shadows, but he could do little to help. He tried to encourage his patient, to calm him, to help him focus on his breathing, but Ren no longer had any patience left for his nurse. He finally lashed out, striking him across the face, and so the doctor remained silent. Just as sun began to set, Ren felt something shift inside of him, and a wet warmth spread out around his thighs. Despite his preparations, despite his desire to rid his body of the interloper, he seized up in fear. Panic coursed through his veins as a massive contraction tore through his body. Against his best efforts, he threw back his head and howled in pain.

The child was coming.


	6. A Violent Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux is recalled to Snoke's fortress under mysterious circumstances. (This chapter is super graphic--consider yourselves warned).

Snoke’s summons had been cryptic at best, but that was nothing new. A few days earlier, Hux had received a formal request to join their Supreme Leader at his fortress to welcome their newest ally. Hux was perplexed. Who could this new ally be? Neither Snoke nor Ren had said anything regarding new political or military connections. But the Supreme Leader seemed to relish in withholding information from the General, especially when it came to matters of the Force. Hux had a feeling that this was one of those matters.

A storm had blown up from the sea. The rain pounded mercilessly against the shuttle’s viewscreen, and thunder boomed loudly overhead. It was difficult to find the narrow landing pad, which was carved into the side of the cliff face; it was even harder to land. He arrived late in the evening, noticing several other shuttles and small vessels parked beneath the castle. He quickly climbed the old, stone staircase that led to the main entrance. As he pushed his way through the heavy wooden doors, he noticed a masked Knight of Ren standing beside the master staircase in the main hall. “You are expected in Lord Ren’s chambers,” said the atonal, mechanical voice. “The others have already arrived.”

The fortress was huge, and Kylo Ren’s room was in the north tower. There were no lifts in the castle, and it took nearly twenty minutes to reach the chamber. They walked in silence through darkened hallways hung with faded tapestries, their path lit periodically by bright flashes of lightning. As they approached the north wing, the air grew warmer and the light brightened. Hux could hear voices, and a commotion that sounded like shouting or moaning. He was instantly alarmed—what was happening here?

“I don’t suppose you can tell me what all this is about?” he asked his guide, feeling aggravated at all the secrecy.

“Come and see.”

As they approached the door, the groaning sounds grew louder. _Someone is being tortured in there,_ Hux realized in horror. He suddenly wanted to run. He feared for his own safety. _Am I walking into a trap?_ he panicked. The knight pushed the heavy wooden door open with a loud creak, and Hux stepped into the room.

After the blue-black of the dark hallways, the golden light was dazzling. A large fire roared in the hearth, and several lanterns lit the room. He first noticed Snoke, calmly seated in a wooden chair near the balcony. The rest of the knights of Ren stood around a narrow, high bed draped in curtains. There was medical equipment everywhere. A man in a First Order medical officer’s uniform stood by the foot of the bed, leaning over. “I’m starting to get concerned,” the officer said. “We’ve been through two units and he may need more…” The man briefly turned around, and Hux recognized Dr. Pallas, Ren’s personal medic. His sleeves were rolled up, and his hands were covered in blood.

And then Hux saw. At first, it was almost unrecognizable as a person. He was positioned on his hands and knees, his body heaving. Blood poured from him. He recognized legs and buttocks and a large, low-hanging belly, and then he saw _it._ A smooth, dark dome, covered in blood and slime, pushing its way out a body cavity that shouldn’t be there. With each push came a fresh scream—there was the sound of choking, of vomiting. There was howling and moaning and an inhuman grunting. And Hux realized that he was looking at Kylo Ren, and somehow, for some reason, there was something coming out of his body.

Hux felt dizzy. The room was so warm, the air so close. The smell of blood and vomit was overwhelming. His head was swimming. He couldn’t breathe. “Oh, God!” he cried, and he leaned over, bracing his hands on his knees and vomiting onto the stone floor.

The knights found this amusing, tittering lightly. The vocalisers in their masks did not faithfully replicate the sounds, instead distorting them into something that sounded like knives scraping against stone. “Why, General Hux,” said Snoke. “What a disgusting display, and on such a happy occasion.”

“Supreme Leader!” Hux gasped, wiping his face with the sleeve of his greatcoat. _“What is happening!?_ You said we were going to meet a new ally!”

“And so we shall!” he replied. “I have used an ancient strain of Sith magic to give our esteemed Lord Ren an heir. After the child grows and trains with him, it will prove a great asset to our cause."

“But, Supreme Leader … why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you _warn_ me?”

Snoke sneered. “Because I had imagined that the warrior who exterminated billions could stand the sight of a little blood. I see that I was mistaken.”

Hux stood trembling, still not believing his eyes. He backed up to the wall and managed to sit on the hearthstone before collapsing. A nurse rushed over and handed him a small, paper cup of water. He tried not to notice the bloody fingerprints staining the sides of the white paper. It all made sense now—Ren’s illness, his “special project,” his odd behavior. But how could this be possible? How could the Force be responsible for this abomination?

Ren let out another agonizing howl that dissolved into sobs. A few moments passed and he screamed again, and again, and each time he cried out, the obscenity between his legs seemed to push out a little further, until finally, he let out one great cry, and the head emerged, followed by the body. The thing did not look alive. It was purplish and covered in white mucous. Hux felt lightheaded, and began to think he was going lose consciousness. Something else came out of Ren, something bloody and pink that was attached to the infant. For one sickening, horrible moment, Hux thought that Ren’s innards were pouring out of him, but then he realized it was the placenta. A nurse took the baby, quickly cutting and clamping the cord, while Dr. Pallas attended to Kylo Ren, who had collapsed on the bed. A few moments later, Hux heard the baby cry. _So it was alive, after all,_ he thought, his heart pounding.

“What is it?” moaned a weak voice from the bloodied bed.

“A little girl, sir,” replied the nurse.

“Let me see her.”

“Lord Ren,” interrupted Dr. Pallas, who was looking more and more frantic by the minute. Don’t move … you’ve lost a lot of blood and we’re still trying to stop the bleeding! Nurse! We need a bacta compress, now!”

Ren muttered something and sank back into the soiled linen. He was still bleeding. There was blood everywhere, and it just kept coming. A 2-1B unit pulled a dark bag from a plastoid cooler and hooked it up to the IV next to the clear bag of fluids.

“Lord Ren,” said the doctor, his voice wavering a bit. “Please stay with me. Do not fall asleep. I repeat: you cannot fall asleep. Look at me! Lord Ren?!” Hux found himself walking around the bed to look at the man. It was like seeing a corpse. His body was crumpled on his back on the filthy bed, his mouth slightly open and his eyes glassy. He was completely still.

He wasn’t breathing.

Dr. Pallas pushed Hux out of the way and flipped the sheet back. He pinched the nose, breathed into the mouth, and pumped his fists on the pale chest. Nothing happened. The doctor suddenly reached down into a metal cart and grabbed the two handheld paddles of a portable defibrillator, pressing them to Ren’s still chest. Hux heard the “Clear!” and the zap of voltage. There was no response. He tried it again, and again, before looking up in horror at the Supreme Leader. There was no sound but the shrill, monotone of the EKG machine.

“Supreme Leader, he’s gone. The heart has stopped.”

Snoke rose and approached the bed, placing one hand on Ren’s forehead and the other over his heart. He closed his eyes tightly, pressed down, and stood very still.

Ren’s chest leaped up from the bed, and he took a deep, gasping breath. He opened his eyes, wincing at the light, gasping for air until his breathing evened out. Snoke calmly returned to his chair.

“What … what happened?” he whispered.

“We lost you there for a moment,” Dr. Pallas replied, wiping sweat from Ren’s brow with a damp washcloth. “But you came back to us.”

“It hurts,” Ren moaned, somewhat unnecessarily. “It still hurts … all over.”

“Yes, my lord, I know. Supreme Leader, I’m going to give him a mild painkiller and a sedative—it’s absolutely necessary.” He handed the cloth over to one of his aides, and busied himself with a needle and a vial.

Ren suddenly noticed Hux standing over his shoulder. “Hux,” he said. “When did you get here?”

“I’ve been here for a while. You were … occupied when I arrived.”

“Oh. I suppose you saw it happen, then. Did you suspect what was going on before you came here tonight?"

“I … no, I didn't. I was quite shocked.”

"I didn't want you to see, you know. I didn't want anyone to be here when it happened. But now, it doesn't seem important--that everyone saw, I mean." He squirmed in the bed and began looking anxiously around the room. He was still very pale, and his breathing was raspy. “Where is she? Bring her to me.”

Hux turned and saw the one of the nurses holding the tiny newborn. She was now freshly washed, comfortably wrapped in a soft, white blanket. Her skin was very smooth and her eyes were very dark—she had a full head of curly dark hair, and little wisps of it stuck out from underneath her small cap. The nurse walked past the general and placed the baby into Ren’s outstretched arms.

“Hello there, little girl,” Ren whispered to the infant. “Look at you. Look how lovely you are.” It was strange to hear him talk in such a soft tone. Never had Hux heard him speak so gently. He grinned stupidly, and his eyes brightened. “Hux… look at her little hands. Look how small.” The baby wriggled a bit in her swaddling clothes and yawned. “Hux! Did you see that! She yawned. Did you see … how sweet?” Ren smiled and planted a kiss on the smooth forehead, bouncing the infant gently.

Snoke started at the exchange with thinly veiled disgust. “Dr. Pallas, I think that perhaps Lord Ren should rest now,” he said acidly.

“Yes, Supreme Leader,” the doctor replied dutifully, reaching over and plucking the infant from Ren’s hands.

“I wasn’t finished holding her!” he shouted with slurred speech. The sedative was starting to take effect.

“My lord, you need your rest now. And so does she! She’ll be more comfortable in her crib. You’ll … they’ll be plenty of time to hold her later.” Ren was completely exhausted and was fighting off sleep. “OK,” he murmured, “When I wake up …” he trailed off, and soon he was asleep.

Snoke rose, looking sour and disapproving. “Take the child to the opposite end of the fortress. Do not bring her back to Kylo Ren. Do not allow him to touch or see the child.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader.”

Hux was dumbfounded. He had never cared much for Ren, but it seemed cruel to take his infant daughter from him, especially after what he’d just been through. As if picking up on his thoughts, Snoke turned to the general.

“Kylo Ren has failed me, General. He is not supposed to love this child. He knew this from the beginning. And yet, when he held her, I felt such light radiating from him—it was sickening to me. He has proved to me that he cannot keep his word. And so he will not be seeing this child again until she is old enough for him to train.”

The knights had long since filled out. Snoke left, and Hux realized that it was just him, two nurses, and one sleeping Kylo Ren. _What would Ren do when he woke up to find the baby gone?_ Hux worried. Hux had witnessed enough of Ren's tantrums to know how dangerous the force-user could be when angered or disappointed. Would he strangle one of the nurses or hurt himself? Would he shatter the glass windows? Destroy the medical equipment? Did he have the strength for that when he clearly could not even rise from bed? Hux found himself wanting to be very far away from the fortress when Ren made the unpleasant discovery that he was to be separated from his newborn offspring. And yet something kept him from leaving the sickroom. He couldn't drive the bloody and humiliating scene he'd just witnessed from his mind, and, for the first time in his life, he found himself pitying Ren. Ren could be intolerable--he was spoiled, petty, and passionate. And yet Hux knew that he had suffered greatly and would continue to suffer greatly to satisfy the whims of their leader. And so, against his better judgment, Hux remained by his bedside, wondering what he could possibly say to placate him once he woke from his deep sleep and desperately hoping that Ren would understand and accept their Supreme Leader's actions.


	7. Confinement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo Ren reacts poorly to the knowledge that he will be separated from his child.

For the first time in many years, Kylo Ren felt happy. It was a light, airy feeling that he’d forgotten he could feel. He felt hope, energy, and potential. It was as if his heart had been a musty, dark, closed-off space and the windows had suddenly been thrown open to a fresh day. He’d been stagnating, flailing, and he didn’t even know it. It took meeting this special little person for him to realize what he’d been missing out on. He’d only held the infant once, and already he was dreaming about all of the wonderful victories she would grow up to accomplish. _She will be strong, so strong, he mused. She will get it right. She will succeed where I have failed, and I will prove to the Supreme Leader that I am still a great asset._ Ren would help her … teach her. She would not make his foolish mistakes or wander down the aimless paths he took in his youth. He would care for her: show her the way. He would never push her to the side because he had better things to do than guide his child. He would never dump her on a friend or relative because he had more important things to take care of. And he would certainly never send her away. They would be together always, master and apprentice. She would struggle through some difficult trials, but she would emerge stronger from them. And she need not ever fear him because he would always have her best interests at heart.

He slowly woke. He felt very sore and achy but content nevertheless. Sometime while he was out, the filthy mattress and sheets had been replaced, he’d been cleaned, and he was surrounded by soft blankets and downy pillows. It was later in the day, close to noon. The windows leading out to the balcony were open, and a pleasant breeze wafted into the room. He could hear the comforting sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore, and he felt marvelously calm.

Ren gingerly sat up, wincing at the sharp pain between his legs and in his back. There was a dozing figure slumped in a chair next to the bed—Hux.

Ren was a little surprised. What was the general still doing here? Had he been ordered to keep an eye on him? It seemed odd.

He looked around for the bassinet. He was ready to hold the baby again. Had she slept through the night? Did she need feeding? Was he supposed to do that, or was that something the nurses would take care of? He twisted around anxiously, searching mentally for the child’s force signature. Perhaps she was in the next room. He finally felt her, far off—she was somewhere in the fortress, he knew. This would not do—he wanted her here, with him.

“Hux!” he barked, reaching over to shake his colleague awake.

The general woke with a start, coming to full attention in a matter of moments.

“I see you’re awake,” he muttered. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. Where’s the baby?”

“In the nursery, of course.”

“She should be in here, where I can keep an eye on her. Go get Dr. Pallas and have him bring her crib in my room. I don’t think I can get out of bed yet.”

Hux frowned, looking away. Ren could feel apprehension rolling off of him in waves.

Something was wrong.

“Hux,” he said again. “Go get Dr. Pallas and ask him to bring the baby to me.”

But Hux just sighed and shook his head. There were several moments of tense silence.

“Promise me something,” he said at last. “Please promise me that you will remain calm when I tell you what I’m about to tell you.”

“Hux, what is going on? Is something wrong with the baby? Is she sick?”

“No, Ren. The baby’s fine. This is something you’ve done, something you’ve brought upon yourself. You really should have seen it coming.”

Ren narrowed his eyes, anger seeping into his mind. “What are talking about, Hux? I have done nothing.”

“Ren … I’m sorry, but the Supreme Leader has taken the child away. Temporarily. He says that you will have her back when she’s old enough to train. But, he seems to think that you’ve let yourself become attached emotionally to her already, and from what I’ve witnessed, that does seem to be the case…”

He trailed off. Ren’s face had gone white and then green, his eyes wide. He was sitting up awkwardly in the bed, stiffly leaning forward like a pale vulture. His breathing was labored and uneven. His large hands lay palms up in his lap, and he stared ahead in the direction of the stone wall, as if looking at something only he could see.

“And so I’ve failed … again,” he moaned quietly. “This can’t be happening. How could I have been so foolish? After everything I’ve done … after everything I’ve been though. The light … I can’t seem to purge myself of this accursed, damnable light!” And then he leaned forward, placing his pale face in his hands and began to cry.

Hux immediately felt uncomfortable. The sound was disconcerting and pathetic. He would rather have witnessed an explosive tantrum than be forced to endure Ren’s quiet weeping. He was expecting an outburst of anger—that, he could deal with. But he couldn’t stand listening to the quiet sobs, the wet sniffling, the sharp intakes of breath. Hux didn’t know what to do.

“Ren, I…” he began.

“Just go away, Hux. You don’t want to be here. You’re disgusted with me. I’m disgusted with me. The Supreme Leader is disappointed in me once again. Just go. Enjoy my failure, but leave me alone.”

And so Hux left. He stole one last look at Ren as he closed the heavy, wooden door. He was still hunched over in the bed, one hand pressed tightly to his face. The other arm was wrapped around his torso, and he was slightly trembling.

Hux did not see him again for two years.

\----------

The next few months were very difficult for Kylo Ren. It took weeks for his body to recover from the trauma of childbirth. He bled profusely from the orifice between his legs for several days, necessitating yet another blood transfusion. When the opening finally closed up, the tender area itched mercilessly. The flesh between his legs remained tender and inflamed for days. His back continued to ache, and his belly was so stretched and swollen that he still looked pregnant. He’d suffered two hairline fractures in his pelvis during the birth, and his hips ached constantly. Fortunately, the Supreme Leader had lifted his ban on “unnecessary” pain medication following Ren’s death and resuscitation on the night of the child’s birth. But the narcotics only did so much, and when they wore off his body was wracked with a deluge of sharp pains and powerful aches. His circulation was terrible and his feet and hands were always cold.

The physical pain, though unpleasant, paled in comparison to the emotional pain. He quickly sank into a severe depression. He thought only of the child. He missed her in a way he didn’t believe possible. She became an obsession. If only he could touch her, see her! Even just once. He felt for her force signature every waking moment. When he sensed anxiety from her, he twisted in agony. When she was content, he wept in gratitude.

The things that were once important to him now meant nothing. He didn’t care about his training, about the Rebellion or the First Order, and he didn’t care about pleasing the Supreme Leader. It seemed impossible. He could do nothing right. He was a failure as a Jedi and now he had failed in his role as Snoke’s apprentice. He had failed to secure the map that would lead the First Order to Skywalker, and he had failed to stop the Rebels from destroying their base. He failed to defeat the scavenger. Instead of punishing him for these transgressions, their Leader had given him yet another opportunity to prove himself useful. And he had failed once again. He’d been overconfident—he thought of himself as purely callous, and yet he was still a slave to the light. He’d spurned the warnings of that insufferable Dr. Pallas. He let his guard down and allowed himself to bond to the infant—the one thing he was not to do.

He grew passive and apathetic. He ate and drank and allowed the nurses to change his bandages and bathe him. He swallowed the vitamins and the pain pills. But he did so because it was the path of least resistance. He had neither the strength, pride, nor desire to fight anyone.

His world grew very dark, but this was not the warm, comforting embrace of the Dark Side. Rather, this darkness was profoundly empty. This was nothingness. There was no ambition, no lust for power, no anger or hatred or passion from which to draw energy. He didn’t care. He was numb. His world became one of dust and shadows, and the Kylo Ren he once knew became a lifeless husk entombed in a comfortable room in a castle cut off from the rest of the galaxy.


	8. Whispers from the Force

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the moment of Kylo Ren's death and resurrection, Luke and Leia sense a great disturbance in the Force. Leia continues to struggle with conflicting emotions while working to strengthen her own meditation skills, hoping desperately to establish some connection with her lost son.

Leia Organa startled awake, gasping for air, her heart in her throat. “Ben!” she screamed within her mind. Something terrible had happened to Ben. His force signature, cut off from her for so long, suddenly flared, white hot, and then ... vanished.

She blinked, rubbing hot tears from her eyes, feeling lost and confused. She hadn’t sensed her son in years. Why now? Could it be that she was sensing something terrible to come? Was the Force warning her that her child, the twisted person she used to call Ben, was going to die? She closed her eyes tightly, twisting her fingers in the sheets. Or had something _already_ happened to him? The moment Han had died, she felt it—it was like being stabbed in the heart with something made of ice. _Had she just felt Ben’s death?_

She buried her face in her hands. How could she still feel love for that boy? How many more terrible things would he do before she could finally let him go? After Han’s death she felt shock, pain, and terrible sadness. There was great anger too, and yet she did not feel angry at Ben. She tried to, hoping to reach some form of catharsis, of release—but she couldn’t bring herself to hate him. Part of her still believed that he was not truly acting of his own accord, that he was being manipulated, and that if she could just somehow see him again, she could get him back. She knew there had to be a way to get through to him.

And yet … the rational part of her knew her child was a lost cause. He’d made his choice, and he had chosen to betray them all. Ben had violently rejected everything dear to her and Luke. A long time ago he was her little boy, but now he had grown into something monstrous. He was irrevocably different now. Where he once stood for honor and courage, he now stood for tyranny and darkness. No amount of wishing or regrets could ever change his violent past and the horror of his new identity.

What was it she had just felt? Her heart still raced from the shock of it. It had come in a flash and then was gone just as quickly. It was like a thousand screams rolled into one—a sensation of abject pain, terror, and deep shame that suddenly extinguished itself.

Leia found herself wishing foolishly for Han, as she’d wished countless times since _it_ happened. She needed him to hold her, to reassure her. Hot tears pricked her eyes as she remembered her dead husband. If he were here, he would wrap her tightly in his arms and comb his rough, calloused hands through her hair. He would say something soothing, something calming; rarely was it practical or helpful, and yet it would comfort her. But he wasn’t here. He wasn’t here and he’d never be here again, because their child had taken him from her. Leia laughed darkly, thinking of Han’s uncanny luck—the countless scrapes he’d been involved in—the violence, the firefights, the unrelenting danger—he'd survived the impossible, only to die at the hands of his son.

She swung her legs out of bed and switched on the light. At that moment her personal commlink pinged. Knowing she wasn’t likely to get any more sleep this night, she answered. It was a coded message sent through a heavily encrypted channel. She plugged the commlink into her personal terminal and waited several minutes for the security processor to decode the message. When it was finished, she got her second shock of the night.

The message was from Luke.

Her heart became a drum in her chest. Luke had not contacted her for several months, and his last correspondence had been woefully underwhelming. He’d sent a short message confirming Rey’s arrival and informing her of his plans to train the young Force-sensitive woman. He had expressed sorrow at Han’s passing. That was it. Leia had felt stunned and angry at this brief missive. Her brother had disappeared without a trace when she and the Rebellion needed him the most. When he finally resurfaced, after the catastrophes of the Hosnian system and Han’s death, he had nothing more for her than a few bland sentences.

Now, he was reaching out to her again. But why? She was afraid to read the message. Had he too experienced a disturbance in the Force? Had he sensed the horrible thing she’d just witnessed that could very well have been her son’s death?

She clicked open the message with trembling hands, her eyes growing wide.

“Leia. I have sensed a great tremor in the Force. Ben is at the center. I have sensed his death and yet I believe he lives still. I do not understand. What I do understand is that something terrible is coming, some unnatural storm brewing on the horizon. Remain alert. Rey and I will monitor the situation as best we can. Please send any relevant data or concerns. When the time is right, we will rejoin the fight. Regards, Luke.”

Leia rose from the desk and walked to the large window. She gazed out on the surrounding nightscape with anxious eyes.

“Ben,” she whispered to herself. “What has happened to you?”

\----------

The sun dawned bright and cheerful the following morning at the Rebellion’s secret base, as if nothing preternatural or horrifying had happened the night before. Leia carried on, as she knew she must—as she always did in the face of tragedy. The weeks turned into months. Leia mechanically performed her duties, although they brought her no satisfaction. She only wanted to meditate, to strive towards that odd connection she’d sensed so violently that night. She occasionally caught small snippets of thoughts, sensations—glimmers of emotion. There was sadness, such crushing sadness—a sense of resignation, worthlessness, and a deep, raw, emotional pain. Was she sensing Ben? If not, what else could this possibly be?

As the months passed she began to sense a shift in her meditations. The deep hurt remained, yet somehow faded into the background, as if becoming dormant. She picked up on glimmers of resolution, a cold sense of purpose, and something else … something positive. Hope? Pride? But the closer she got to uncovering more information, the foggier her senses became.

Years began to go by. She learned to live with the fact of Han’s death, but not without great sorrow. The war continued—the Resistance made small gains and sustained small losses, as did the Order. After the disastrous attack on the Republic and the Resistance’s subsequent destruction of the First Order’s Starkiller Base, hostilities had decreased to a low simmer. And yet Leia knew better than to grow complacent. The Order was licking its wounds, gearing up for something large and disastrous. What that was, she could not tell. And so Leia buried herself in her work, poring over battle tactics, debriefing intelligence personnel, and planning missions. Although her military duties consumed most of her life, she still thought of her son. She still reached out for him, and yet could never seem to really make contact with him. Sometimes she wondered if he was aware of her presence. Was he seeking her out, or was she simply becoming more powerful? Was he in trouble? Did he think of her? She didn’t know. She only knew in her heart of hearts that he was still alive and out there somewhere.

And despite everything, she still wanted him home.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this work, please leave kudos, comments, or a bookmark. Thank you for reading <3


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